


Taken

by Blackghost7



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst and Humor, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:57:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackghost7/pseuds/Blackghost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets taken. But is it really bad, or is it just Tony's luck…?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken

Tony squinted his eyes against the low sunlight, and cursed himself again for forgetting his sunglasses in his own car. Having agreed to help a buddy move, Tony had asked Gibbs if he could borrow his truck, and early that morning Tony had shown up at Gibbs' place, breakfast and coffee in hand in thanks for the loan of the truck, and had left his own car in Gibbs' driveway to be exchanged again when he returned that evening. But now, after a long day of lugging boxes and furniture - thankfully his buddy had only moved a couple of blocks down from his old place, so the move itself was relatively easy - Tony was tired and had been driving along backroads to avoid traffic, and the setting sun had been glaring him in the face the entire way. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and squinted again, the headache he had been feeling slowly building behind his eyes trying to take over his senses. 

When he heard the sound, at first he tried convincing himself that it was just one of the little stones from the road hitting the metal of the truck, but that lasted only a few seconds. He had heard too many gunshots in his life to be able to fool himself for long, and when the second bullet hit the car, Tony cursed again and swerved. The loud bang that followed told him that a third bullet had hit the front tire, and as he felt control of the truck slip away from him, he sent a quick mental apology to Gibbs.

"Sorry I wrecked your truck, Boss!"

Then the truck overturned, and Tony saw the world spin around twice before the movement finally stopped, then he took a deep breath and let his world fade to black.

 

Tony groaned quietly when his head bumped against something, and instinctively brought up his arm to protect his head. As he moved, he felt his arms brush against confinements, and when he tried to move his legs, they bumped into something as well. Opening his eyes, all he could see was darkness, and for a second he panicked. He was boxed in! Was he in a coffin? Had they buried him alive? But then his rational mind took over again and he registered the sound of a car engine, and he felt movement, and as he reached out again, he felt carpet. The trunk of a car. He was in the trunk of a car. Tony breathed deeply to let the panic subside, and then took stock of his situation. He wasn't tied up, and his eyes were starting to make out shapes, a little light coming in through the cracks in the upholstery. Feeling around, he quickly found his phone and his wallet, and brought his phone up to his face. Muting the sound, he unlocked it, groaning softly again when he saw he had no reception. Nevertheless, he quickly sent a message to the team's group messaging, knowing it would be delivered as soon as he came into reach of a cell tower.

Got shot at. Truck overturned. Kidnapped. Come find me.

After a short hesitation, he added two more words, just to be certain.

NO JOKE!

As soon as he had hit Send, Tony used the light on his phone to check out his surroundings. It was indeed the trunk of a car, and besides himself, it contained a tire iron, a baseball bat and an entire set of golf clubs. Useful weapons each, considering he had left his gun at home. But then he had to wonder at what kind of kidnapper would leave his victim not only with such weapons in reach, but also left him his phone, and didn't even tie him up… Either this guy was very confident, or very stupid. Or maybe it was a joke after all? A stunt from his buddy? But Tony dismissed that idea as soon as it came to him. Those bullets had been real, and his buddy would never risk Tony crashing the car and getting hurt. He softly groaned again. The car. Gibbs' car. Tony was going to be paying for that with the mother of all head slaps, he was sure. 

Before he could decide on a further course of action, Tony heard a voice from the front of the car, and he quickly found the voice recorder on his phone and switched it on. He may not have reception and therefore not be able to call for help, but at least he could record everything that happened so maybe they could use it as evidence when he got out of here. If he got out of here. 

"Yeah, I got him, Dean… He's in the trunk… No, he's unconscious… That's why I'm bringing him to you… I thought you wanted to talk to him… No, Dean, I didn't think of that… Well, just think of something then, because we're nearly there…"

Tony quickly ran through all their recent cases in his mind, trying to find someone named Dean who might have an ax to grind with him, but came up blank. At least the part about this Dean wanting to talk to him made Tony relax a little, it didn't sound as if they were going to kill him as soon as they got wherever it was they were going. On the other hand, what if this Dean didn't like the answers Tony gave? They might be getting into a torture scenario then, and Tony really wasn't looking forward to that. He hadn't been seriously hurt in the crash, but his head ached from the sunlight and the subsequent bumps it had received in the crash and then the ride in the trunk. And really, Tony just wanted to go home, not be forced to be the heroic federal agent right now. He was tired, and his muscles ached from moving stuff all day, and he just wanted a beer and a nap, not a 'talk' with a kidnapper.

As he felt the car slow down, Tony quickly weighed his options. He could grab one of the 'weapons' in the trunk with him and come out swinging as soon as they opened the hatch, but then he didn't know how many of them there were, and if there were more than just the two involved, that might mean someone with a gun could be waiting for him to make such a move and shoot him. Deciding he had better find out more first, Tony relaxed his body and closed his eyes, and played possum when he felt the car come to a full stop. He heard the front door open and then slam shut, and then two male voices arguing softly.

"Stupid!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Dean? You wanted to talk to him, and he wasn't moving, and I wasn't gonna sit there next to a wrecked car waiting for him to wake up or you to show up! What if someone else came by?"

"Wrecked car?"

"Yeah! He ran himself off the road and the truck overturned. He's lucky to be alive."

"What the hell did you do, Mark?"

"I tried to make him stop by shooting out the tires, but eh…"

"What?"

"I kinda missed. Twice. Got him the third time, though!"

"You shot at him?"

"How else was I gonna make him stop?"

"Block the road with your own car?"

"Oh… yeah… Didn't think of that."

"So, let me get this straight, Mark. You SHOT at him, THREE times, and then watched him wreck his truck and then you KIDNAPPED him?"

"You said you wanted to talk to him… I was just trying to help, Dean."

Even through the lid of the trunk, Tony could hear the exasperated sigh coming from the second man. Then Dean's voice sounded again, a little apprehensively this time.

"You sure he's okay? He's awfully quiet."

"I told you, he's unconscious. Probably still out of it."

"We'd better check if he's alright."

Tony willed his muscles to stay relaxed as he heard the men moving around the car, and kept his eyes closed when the trunk was opened and soft light fell on his face.

"Mark!"

"Yeah?"

Another deep sigh could clearly be heard.

"This isn't him, idiot."

"What?"

"This isn't Gary. I don't know who the hell this is!"

"Well, he was driving the blue truck, just like you said, and he was there on the road at exactly the time you said he would be."

"Grey truck, Mark. I said grey truck…"

"Oh…"

Tony could barely contain a groan. Not only was he apparently the victim of a case of mistaken identity - who kidnapped someone they didn't know without checking their identity first, anyway? Tony had his wallet and badge on him, his name and credentials right there for all to see - but Gibbs' truck was wrecked for nothing. And his team would be looking for him and laughing their asses off as soon as he told them the whole story. Gibbs was going to be so pissed at him.

"Well what do we do now, Dean?"

"Maybe we could drop him back at his truck and forget this ever happened?"

"Good idea."

"But we better make sure he's alright first. Don't want him dying on us and then getting done for manslaughter or something."

While Tony appreciated the sentiment, he couldn't help but groan at the notion. Yeah, because shooting at and kidnapping a federal agent was much better than leaving him to die in a car accident. Tony's quiet groan made the two men take a hasty step back, and then a tentative step forward again.

"He's waking up, Dean."

"I can see that, Mark."

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly as if waking him up from sleep.

"Hey man, you alright?"

Making show of coming to, Tony blinked his eyes furiously, stretched his arms and legs as far as the trunk would let him, and then looked up at his captors with a confused expression on his face, his voice pitched to match.

"What happened?"

The two glanced at each other quickly.

"Ehm… there was an accident?"

That was Dean, Tony surmised from the sound of his voice.

"Really? Wow. Is everyone alright?"

Tony made a show of looking around. They were in a barn of some sort, a large open space with old hay scattered in the corners, the doors apparently closed after the car had been driven inside. There were a table and a few old wooden chairs in a corner, and a workbench with lots of tools. Tony suppressed a smile. Lots of hand tools. Gibbs would have a field day, if he ever got here.

"And why am I in the trunk of a car?"

"Ehm… Because the back seat is full of stuff and you didn't fit there?"

Yep, that was Mark. Had Tony not already surmised it from the earlier conversation, this made it official. These guys were idiots. He tried to sit up.

"Oh, well, thanks I guess. Can you guys give me a hand, so I can get up?"

"Sure."

Mark helped Tony sit up straight and get out of the trunk. Once he was standing up and leaning against the car to ostensibly steady himself, Tony held out his hand. This was going to be too easy.

"Hi. I'm Tony DiNozzo. And you are?"

"Dean Havers."

"Mark McNeal."

Shaking their hands in turn as they introduced themselves, Tony had to suppress a grin again. Yep, they really were stupid.

"Do you guys have any Tylenol or something? I must have hit my head, it's killing me."

"I'm sure we have something. I'll go find it. Why don't you sit down."

And as Dean went off to find the Tylenol, Mark helpfully supported Tony over to a chair and sat him down. Then Mark froze for a moment before he scurried over to the corner where Dean was searching some boxes for the pills. Tony could make out Mark's hissing clearly, this time not even trying not to smile.

"Dean! Dean!"

"What?"

"I just thought of something!"

"What, Mark?"

"If we're gonna drop him back at his car and pretend we were never there, we shouldn't have told him our names! And we probably should have hidden our faces, shouldn't we?"

It took them a second to process that thought, and Tony just caught a glimpse of their horrified looks when they turned back to look at him, before Tony hid his face in his hands, pretending he was trying to soothe his headache, but really just hiding his laughter.

After a long moment of silence, the two seemed to collect themselves, and in a lucky stroke of hand, Dean actually found the Tylenol. Walking back over to Tony, Dean handed him the bottle.

"Need anything else?"

Tony smiled his best smile.

"I could use a beer, if you've got one…?"

"Sure."

And Mark opened a cooler sitting next to the table and handed Tony a beer, taking two out for himself and Dean as well. The three of them sat at the table as Tony swallowed two pills and washed them down with a couple of swigs of cold beer.

"So… We kinda lied to you earlier…"

Dean sounded apologetic, but looked uncomfortable. Tony looked at him questioningly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah… When I said my name was Dean, I meant it's… Dave."

"Dave, huh?"

Catching on, Mark's anguished look brightened.

"Yeah! And my name's… Mack!"

"Alright… Dave and Mack it is. My name really is Tony, though, so you can still call me that."

Feeling more and more confident about his predicament, Tony settled back in his chair and relaxed, taking another swig of his beer. He was quite sure he could wait relatively comfortably and safely in the company of these two morons until Gibbs and the team came to rescue him, and maybe even find out more about this Gary guy they had originally set out to 'talk' to. 

*****

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

And as the man on the other side of the line rattled off Gibbs' home address, Gibbs' gut clenched. These kinds of calls were never good, when the one on the other end of the line wanted to be sure he had the exact right person. 

"Yeah."

"Mr. Gibbs, this is Robert Pearson with the federal marshall's office."

Gibbs' gut clenched even further.

"Yeah?"

"We found your truck…"

The truck. Tony had the truck. Tony. As he listened to the marshall explain they'd found the truck wrecked at the side of the road, Gibbs tried to keep his breathing under control. Even though he had never seen the wreck, every time something like this happened, he flashed back to what his mind's eye provided as the wreck Shannon and Kelly had died in. He couldn't do this again, couldn't lose his family again to a car crash. Family. Tony. Gibbs didn't have time to contemplate that feeling right now, couldn't face this again. 

"Where?"

As the marshall gave him the location, Gibbs tried to keep his mind focused on the details, tried to keep from thinking about anything but Tony being fine. Writing down the details automatically out of habit, Gibbs glanced at McGee, who was focused on him intensely. Yeah, McGee had grown a lot over the past few years, and had even developed something of a gut of his own, and Gibbs could see that that gut was telling him something now. Seeing McGee's hands poised over his keyboard, Gibbs repeated the details out loud, both to ensure the marshall knew he was paying attention and to set McGee to work. Gibbs told the marshall to stay away from the scene, saying he and his team of federal agents would be right there. As soon as Gibbs disconnected the call, McGee put the information onto the plasma.

"It's a backroad, Boss. Usually taken by those trying to avoid traffic. There was an accident on the I-295 earlier this evening, so it's possible someone thought to take a short cut."

Gibbs' gut clenched even further. Tony would know that, would try to circumvent traffic like that after a long and tiring day. McGee glanced up at Gibbs.

"What are we looking for, Boss?"

Swallowing away the bile that rose in his throat, Gibbs eyed his agent.

"My truck, McGee."

Without another word, Gibbs grabbed his coat, Ziva following him immediately, McGee doing the same while transferring the information to his phone. As they stepped into the elevator, headed down to the garage, Gibbs let his impatience show.

"Anything, McGee?"

"Still loading, Boss. I'll let you know when I've got something…"

A short silence followed as the two junior agents pretended not to be studying their boss. McGee broke first.

"Boss? If it's your truck… who was driving it?"

The head slap hit with ferocity and something almost akin to desperation at the stupidity of the question - there were only a few people Gibbs would let borrow his truck, and Tony and Fornell were the only ones of those who weren't with them in the office that day. And considering that Tony was much more likely to be in trouble than Fornell, the answer should be obvious. Nevertheless, Gibbs deigned to answer after a deep sigh and a swig of coffee.

"DiNozzo borrowed it for his day off."

Alarmed, McGee and Ziva shot each other worried glances, but refrained from adding further comments, and all three waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive at the garage level so they could at least get underway to their teammate and friend. 

it was a mostly silent but fearsome ride, Gibbs driving and Ziva and McGee just trying to hang on for dear life. When they reached the mouth of the valley, McGee told Gibbs he'd lost reception, but since this was the only road, Gibbs didn't care. A few miles along the road, they spotted a patrol car with the doors open and two marshals lounging in the front seat. The wreck of the truck was barely visible in a ditch at the side of the road. When Gibbs pulled over, without waiting for instructions, McGee went to check out the truck and Ziva started surveying the surroundings, while Gibbs went to speak to the marshals. 

"Robert Pearson?"

"Yeah. Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs just nodded to confirm while he shook the man's hand.

"Where is he? Did you have him taken to the hospital?"

"Who, sir?"

Gibbs glared.

"The driver. Where is he?"

"There was no one here, Agent Gibbs. Maybe he got out and went looking for help?"

Gibbs glared harder. 

"The man driving this truck is a federal agent, Pearson. He knows better than to leave the scene. He would've called for help and stayed with his vehicle so we'd know where to find him."

"Ah. You may not have noticed yet, sir, but there's no signal out here. This whole valley is kind of a dead spot. Not many people living here, so…"

That would explain why Gibbs hadn't heard from Tony yet, and why Gibbs had gone straight to voicemail when he'd tried calling Tony from the car. Also, McGee had mentioned losing the signal as they entered the valley. Gibbs took a deep breath.

"If he had left the car to find a signal, he would've left a message to tell us where he was going. Find anything like that?"

But before Pearson could answer, McGee's worried voice called out.

"Uhm, Boss? We've got a problem here!"

Gibbs was next to McGee in a few seconds, Ziva hot on his tail, the marshals following more slowly and looking on. Gibbs saw immediately what McGee meant, but the younger agent voiced it anyway, hoping he was wrong.

"I don't suppose these bullet holes were in your truck already before Tony borrowed it?"

Swallowing again, Gibbs answered softly.

"No, McGee."

For a moment, the three agents stood staring at the bullet holes, their thoughts on Tony, then they shook themselves out of it.

"Well, there's no blood in the truck, Boss, so if he got hurt, at least he wasn't bleeding. Could be that he got out and went in search of a signal to call for help, but I also didn't find any message telling us that."

"And I have found another set of tire tracks on the road, Gibbs. They stopped right by the truck. Maybe Tony was helped by a passerby?"

"Then why no message, and why those bullet holes, David?"

Knowing she was just trying to stay hopeful, Gibbs still couldn't handle that right then. She nodded.

"I will see what else I can find, Gibbs."

As Ziva went back to the road, McGee continued searching the truck as Gibbs let his eyes roam over the scene, taking in everything.

"Boss? These look like drag marks."

Gibbs joined McGee again and studied the barely there marks left on the hard soil, which disappeared a few feet away from the truck. The picture was forming clearly in his mind, and he didn't like it. Going back to Ziva, Gibbs clenched his fists in anger and worry.

"David!"

She was crouched by the side of the road, her head tilted slightly to the side, scanning the surface. Gibbs stood beside her as she pointed and spoke.

"The second vehicle drove up to here with great speed and came to a sudden halt. The driver got out, walked over there, then down there to the truck and back up here again. The indentations of the footprints back up are deeper, indicating a heavier weight. Then there are these vague marks where the end of the car would be, and then lighter footsteps again back to the front door."

She looked up at Gibbs and saw that he already knew everything she was saying. Seeing McGee climbing back up to them, she waited a moment until he had joined them, and then said it anyway.

"Someone took Tony from the truck, carried him to here and put him in the trunk of a car, Gibbs. He must have been incapacitated."

And as McGee and Ziva tried to process that Tony was missing and quite probably injured, Gibbs sighed and scanned the landscape, muttering quietly under his breath.

"Where the hell are you, DiNozzo?"

*****

Tony gladly accepted a second beer from his captors and relaxed a little more in his chair now that the Tylenol had dampened his headache to a dull throb, which he was man enough to ignore, thank you. In his mind he could just hear Gibbs growling at him to 'suck it up, DiNozzo!', and he smiled a little at himself at the thought. Gibbs. He hoped Gibbs would get here soon, because fun as this was, he really was tired, and Gibbs was probably worried, and Tony didn't like worrying Gibbs. Or had they yet to discover that he was missing? Had they received his message by now? Tony didn't think he had reception on his phone here either, but didn't want to pull it out of his pocket to check, thereby alarming the two idiots that he still had it and was recording everything. Tony decided little more talking was in order.

"So, Mack…"

Mark took a moment to realize that Tony was addressing him, and it was only when Dean kicked his leg under the table that he sat up in understanding and turned to Tony.

"Yeah?"

"The accident… I don't really remember what happened. Was anyone else hurt?"

"No, just you. There was nobody else there but you and me, man. You were lucky I was there."

"Lucky?"

Tony couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Yeah, man. I watched… eh… saw the whole thing. You ehm… just went into the ditch. You must've… hit a rock? Or something?"

Mark glanced at Dean in question, and Dean nodded back as if to say that Mark had just made a really good save. Getting bolder from this encouragement, Mark added more. He looked at Tony solemnly.

"I probably saved your life out there, Tony."

"Well, if you did, I'm grateful, Mack. I'm just glad no one else was hurt."

Taking another sip of his beer, Tony looked at the two again.

"Hey… Do you guys have a phone I could use? I should probably call someone."

Dean and Mark glanced at each other in alarm.

"Who would you call?"

"Well, I need to call my friend. It was his truck, and he's not gonna be happy that I wrecked it."

The two relaxed a little. Tony pushed further.

"Or maybe the police? I would need to report the accident, wouldn't I?"

His captors tensed up again. It was Dean who answered after a few moments.

"Cell phones don't work out here, Tony, sorry."

Just as Tony had expected.

"Okay… How about a landline? You must have a working phone somewhere?"

"Yeah, in the house."

Mark only realized he shouldn't have said that when he was kicked by Dean again. Trying to go for another save, Mark quickly added.

"But there's no need to call. We've already called the marshals, and they've probably already informed your friend."

Tony didn't believe it for one second, but was glad to know that apparently there was a house with a working phone close by. He wouldn't have much trouble escaping these two and make it over there. 

"Oh… Thanks for that then, Mack. Uhm… But will the marshals know where to find me? Maybe we should head back to the truck, so that when they come, I'll be there."

Another quick glance between the two, and this time it was Dean who spoke.

"The marshals said we should bring you here. You know… away from the wreck? In case… in case… it, like, exploded, or something?"

Mark's face lit up.

"Yeah. Cars always explode in wrecks in the movies! Dangerous for you to be there, man! Told you I saved you life!"

Tony nodded sagely.

"I can't thank you enough, Mack. Both of you. So, the marshals know I'm here with you?"

"Ehm… yeah… sure."

"Well, that's a load off my mind then. Is there a bathroom I could use?"

Tony had hoped that would get him to the house with the phone, but instead Dean pointed to a closed off corner of the barn. Only slightly disappointed, Tony carefully got up and slowly made his way over to the corner, walking as if he was hurt so the two wouldn't expect him to be able to move too quickly if he had to. As he walked, Tony paid close attention to his surroundings, and as he passed the car, he noticed something that made him smile and shake his head again in disbelief. The keys were still in the ignition. He could probably make his escape right now, but he did really need to hit the head, and besides, he wasn't done with these two yet. It was good to know, though. He would have no trouble getting away when he'd had enough of this.

*****

When they had finished processing the scene, taking pictures and making casts of the tire tracks, Gibbs sent McGee with the car back to the mouth of the valley to send everything to Abby and arrange for the wreck of his truck to be picked up and brought to her as well for evidence. Meanwhile, he and Ziva talked to the marshals.

"Anyone live out here, Pearson?"

"Just a couple of people. There are two family farms a couple of miles that way, and there is…"

As Pearson's voice trailed off, he got a far off look in his eyes. Gibbs impatiently called him back to attention.

"Yes? What!"

"Uh… sorry, Agent Gibbs. There is the Havers' house. Boy named Dean Havers. Lives there with his cousin."

"Any one of those have a car that could have made those tire tracks?"

"I… I don't know, sir. We… we don't get out here much. Like I said, this is kind of a dead zone. It was a fortunate coincidence for you that my partner and I decided to come along this road today. Otherwise it might have been days before the wreck was found."

That didn't do anything to assuage Gibbs' worry and anger. He turned to Ziva.

"We'll check the houses as soon as McGee comes back with the car."

Pearson broke in.

"Yeah, maybe someone heard something. Why don't you check the farms, and we'll go to the Havers' house."

When Gibbs threw him a piercing look, Pearson cleared his throat.

"That house is kinda tough to find, sir. And your navigation doesn't work out here, remember?"

Gibbs' gut was screaming at him.

"Okay… why don't you and I check out the Havers' house, and your partner can go with Agents McGee and David to check out the farms."

Pearson seemed flustered for a moment, then rallied.

"No can do, Agent Gibbs. Protocol prohibits me and my partner splitting up, and you wouldn't want to ride in the back of the patrol car like a criminal…"

Gibbs just looked at him again, then relaxed and shrugged his shoulder.

"Fine. You go to the house, we'll take the farms."

Ignoring the questioning look Ziva threw him at that, Gibbs motioned for her to follow him back to the wreck of the truck.

"Left something in the truck, David. With me."

As soon as they crouched down behind the truck, out of sight and earshot of the marshals, Ziva hissed quietly at Gibbs.

"That man is lying, Gibbs!"

"i know, Ziva."

"Then why…?"

"That's why we're going to follow them to that house. And why you are going up the road right now to meet McGee to brief him, and figure out a way to follow them without them noticing."

Then Gibbs grabbed something innocuous from the truck and handed it to Ziva. Standing up, he raised his voice so the marshals could hear.

"Told you we forgot something, David. You bring this to McGee so you can photograph it and send it to Abby."

Playing along, Ziva spoke loudly too.

"But, Gibbs! It is miles before I reach McGee, and then we would have to return to where he has a signal! It would take time. Can we not just give this to Abby when we return to the Yard?"

Gibbs turned to her with a half smile the marshals couldn't see.

"I thought you were tough, David. Mossad training not all you made it out to be?"

Ziva huffed in annoyance. Gibbs grinned.

"Okay then. Now scoot!"

And Ziva hid her smile as she took off down the road on a run, leaving Gibbs to stall the marshals.

*****

While Tony was in the tiny, filthy, so-called bathroom, he heard the other two talking. He just had to shake his head at himself again in amusement. They weren't even considering that he could hear them. 

"What do we do, Dean?"

"Relax, Mark. I've got plan."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"We wait until he falls asleep, then we put him back in the trunk and drive him out somewhere. He doesn't know where we are. We drop him there and we're in the clear. He won't know where to find us."

Tony put his fist to his mouth to stifle his laughter. These guys were stupidly brilliant. When he flushed, he heard Dean hiss again.

"Shhh! He's coming back. Be quiet now!"

When Tony slowly returned to the table and chairs, he saw the two had taken out a deck of cards, and as he settled back into his chair, he let his eyes shine.

"Can I play too? It would distract me from all that's happened, even if I don't remember anything."

"Umm… sure. Poker?"

"Yeah, sure."

Dean dealt the cards, and they played a round or two before Tony spoke up again.

"I have a friend who lives not far from where I crashed. Do you guys know Gary?"

"Gary Hamilton?"

Another swift kick was delivered by Dean to Mark's leg under the table. Mark shook his head at Tony.

"No, I don't know him."

"Oh… Too bad. He's a nice guy."

Dean shot Tony a glare.

"No, he isn't! He…"

Tony suppressed yet another smirk.

"He what?"

"Nothing. We don't know him."

"Sounded like you did know something, Dave…?"

Dean glowered again.

"Nope."

Tony decided not to push his luck. They played another couple of rounds and Tony accepted another beer, then started yawning and stretching. 

"You know… I'm really tired. I've had a long day, and I'm kinda hurting from the accident. I could do with some sleep. You guys got anywhere I can lie down for a bit?"

Indicating a couple of relatively fresh bales of hay with some blankets thrown over them, Dean responded.

"Sure. You can crash there."

"And you'll wake me up as soon as the marshals come, right?"

"Of course, Tony. Don't worry. You'll be safe and sound in no time."

Tony smiled at them both.

"Really, Mack, Dave, I can't thank you enough. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, you two have really made this a most enjoyable experience."

And as Tony curled up on the bales of hay, drawing a blanket over himself, he couldn't help but think that it was actually kinda true. He'd had fun handling these two. The only thing that soured the childish joy he felt at playing these two was the thought that Gibbs was out there, worried for him. 

*****

McGee was feeling pretty pleased with himself, despite his worry for Tony. Though he would never match Gibbs' driving, he'd made pretty good time on the bumpy road, had sent everything to Abby and had even managed to calm her down a little when she found out it was Tony who was missing, and now he was barreling back down the road to where Gibbs and Ziva were waiting. Spotting Ziva's familiar figure in the middle of the road, waving her arms to stop him, he slowed down and came to a controlled full stop to let her in.

"Stay here a moment, McGee, there is no need to hurry too much."

And at his questioning look, she filled him in on their suspicions about marshall Pearson, what Gibbs had said, and to figure out a way to follow them. McGee smiled.

"No problem, Ziva. I've got a radio tracker in my bag that I've been dying to try out. It will work in this stupid valley as well, and was designed for just such a purpose. All you need to do is plant it on their car."

"I can do that, McGee."

Ziva smiled, but then turned serious again.

"Are you worried about Tony, McGee?"

"Well… yeah."

She nodded.

"Me too. But Gibbs seems to think he will be alright."

"The Boss is worried too. He always is when it concerns Tony."

And then the two of them looked at each other and smirked a little. They both knew what was going on there, and hoped that one day… one glorious day…

"Alright, McGee. Take us back to Gibbs."

*****

"That's some agent you've got there, Gibbs. You certainly seem to have the two of them well under control."

"She's former Mossad. They're all special. Good people."

Gibbs glanced back from Ziva's departing figure at Pearson. 

"Don't tell them I said that, Pearson."

With a huff of laughter, Pearson glanced back at Gibbs.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Gibbs clenched his fists into his pockets, it was all he could do to stop himself from wiping the smirk off the jerk's face. Asking come more questions about the condition the two marshals had found the scene in, he stalled for time, and breathed sigh of relief when he finally saw the dust cloud that signaled McGee and Ziva's return. Person glanced at his watch.

"That was fast."

Gibbs smirked.

"Told you. Mossad training."

When McGee pulled up, he gave Gibbs a full briefing of everything he'd sent to Abby, and insisted the two marshals listened in too, giving Ziva ample opportunity to plant the device he'd given her on the patrol car. When she walked back to them and smiled, McGee cut his briefing short and flustered slightly.

"But you know all that, Boss. Because I would make sure to do everything you ordered."

Gibbs glanced at him, understanding him perfectly, and quirked his lips.

"Good job, McGee, Ziva."

Pearson seemed a little surprised, but let it go.

"Alright, Agent Gibbs. So now we go check out the occupants of the valley, see if they noticed anything. It's already getting dark, so be glad the roads to the two farms you'll be checking out are clearly marked."

"Always glad for small favors, Pearson."

"Then let's go."

"You guys go ahead. Need to talk to my team."

"Okay, Gibbs. No problem."

*****

Tony shivered as he curled up tighter under the filthy blanket. He wasn't that cold, but he was tired, and he was trying to keep himself awake while pretending to be asleep. Mostly his thoughts revolved around Gibbs. He wished he could call Gibbs, let him now he was alright, tell him where he was and not to worry. He spared a few thoughts for McGee and Ziva too, of course, and knew they would be worried about him and he felt grateful for such friends and partners, but really it was all about Gibbs. Gibbs would be angry about Tony wrecking his truck, would be worried about Tony getting in trouble, would be pissed at Tony for wasting valuable agency time, would be concerned about Tony's well-being. And as much as he would love to imagine that meant something special, Tony just couldn't let himself go there, telling himself it would be the same if this had happened to Ziva or McGee. But things like this never happened to Ziva or McGee, did they? No, it was only Tony. And then Gibbs would get all mother hen and possessive - and didn't Tony secretly just love that? - and then for the next few weeks, Gibbs would act out and smack him for being so stupid. Tony reminded himself to stock up on Tylenol.

But Tony didn't want Gibbs angry or pissed, and didn't want him worried. He wanted Gibbs happy, or as happy as the man was ever going to be again. And he felt guilty for adding to the man's distress. Well, concern. Well, mild worry. Maybe Gibbs wasn't worried at all, and was just accepting that Tony had played the dice once too many times and this was it, would let Tony fend for himself this time, let him figure it out and make it own on his own this time. Or not make it out. But something deep down inside him laughed derisively at that notion, and Tony took comfort at that. Gibbs cared. If nothing else, nothing more, Gibbs cared about Tony. And Tony would have to be content with that.

*****

"Where the hell are they going, McGee?"

McGee replied from the backseat, one ear on the radio and one on Gibbs, while Ziva stealthily drove the car with no lights. McGee didn't know how she could possibly see where they were going in the dark, but he was quietly grateful that they hadn't hit anything yet. 

"Well, he said this house was hard to find, Boss. He was right. It isn't on any of the scans I saw before we lost reception, and if he's really going there, we wouldn't have found it even with navigation."

A painful thought struck McGee.

"He IS going there, right, Boss? He IS leading us to Tony?"

Gibbs breathed out deeply.

"He is, Tim. My gut…"

Neither McGee nor Ziva commented on the use of the first name or the unfinished sentence. They had to believe that Gibbs was right.

*****

Pearson motioned for his partner to stay in the car, then surveyed the house - completely dark - and the barn - lights on. He sighed and got out. Tony tensed imperceptibly under his blanket when the barn doors open. Then he wondered at the smile and relief he heard in Dean's voice.

"Cousin Bobby!"

"What the hell did you do, Dean? Is Mark in on this? What the hell did you two do?"

Now Dean sounded plaintive.

"Cousin Bobby? What are you so mad about? We just got the wrong guy, that's all! We were gonna fix it!"

"I gave you a clear description of Gary Hamilton and his truck, even told you when and where he would be. How'd you screw this up?!"

"Bobby…"

"You call me marshal Pearson, Mark. I've earned that!"

"Yes, sir. Marshal Pearson, it was just a mistake. We'll make it right!"

"Like hell you will! The guy you took is a federal officer, and his team are out there looking for him right now! There's no way to make this right! Tell me at least you made sure he has no idea who took him?"

"Ehm… He's right there, cousin Bobby."

Even with his eyes closed, Tony could feel someone looming over him. Then he heard the muttered curses. He should have gotten out of here before now.

"Sweet Lord! You didn't even blindfold him! Tell me he's tied up under that blanket! Tell me he's not been awake the entire time and that you haven't talked to him!"

Chastised and uncertain, Dean and Mark just made some strangled sounds. Tony's adrenaline level shot up profusely.

"You did, didn't you. You probably told him everything. He probably knows enough to know exactly who you are."

"Well, we didn't tell him about you wanting to take down Gary Hamilton because he stole your girl, marshall Pearson!"

A deep sigh came from very close to Tony's face.

"You just did, idiot."

And Tony felt the barrel of a gun pressing to his temple.

"He's not asleep. Are you, Agent DiNozzo."

It wasn't a question, and Tony knew he was screwed. Taking a deep breath and stretching, blinking again, Tony tried to pretend that he was just waking up. A derogatory laugh escaped Pearson's throat.

"Save it, DiNozzo. I've met your boss. Said you were special."

A quick jab of pride and longing shot through Tony.

"I also know he wouldn't let you get away with that little display."

Tony's heart fell, and not just a little. He took in a deep breath and turned onto his back.

"I don't…"

But before Tony could say anything more, the barn doors were kicked open and his team stood there with weapons drawn. 

*****

It was thankfully short and just a few minutes later, Tony was in the front seat of the trusted Charger, McGee and Ziva at his back and Gibbs at his side behind the wheel, shooting him warning glances. 

"They were stupid, Boss! I was in no danger at all until that marshal showed up! Really! And I'm really sorry about your truck..."

Gibbs just glared at him some more, then dropped McGee and Ziva off at the Yard.

"I'm taking DiNozzo to Emergency to be checked out."

Without a word, Ziva and McGee got out and watched Gibbs help Tony to his own car, settling him carefully in the passenger seat before driving off in a very sedate pace. 

"Ziva? You think…?"

"I hope so, McGee. I hope so."

*****

After the trip to Emergency, where Tony was cleared and handed more Tylenol to help with his headache, Gibbs took Tony to his home. Gibbs almost forcibly settled Tony on the couch, and returned from the kitchen with two beers, but before he could hand one to Tony or take a sip himself, Gibbs put both bottles down on the coffee table and dropped onto the couch next to Tony, wrapping his arms around the younger man tightly.

For a moment, Tony was in heaven, but then his natural mask took over and he started complaining.

"Gibbs? Boss? Not that I mind the hug, but I kinda can't breathe…"

"Tony… don't ever do that to me again."

"What, Boss?"

Gibbs was silent for long moments, just letting himself feel the younger man safely in his arms, feeling him breathe and his feeling his heart beat, letting Gibbs know that Tony was alive. Tony reveled in it and didn't want to disturb it, curving his neck so his head could lean against Gibbs' comfortably, but after a few minutes Tony spoke.

"Gibbs? I'm fine. Really. Really, Boss. Don't worry."

Gibbs was silent for so long after that, that Tony was almost fidgeting to say more. But then Gibbs spoke.

"That was the second time, Tony."

Puzzled, Tony kept quiet.

"The second time in my life someone told me that who I loved most in this world was in a car crash."

Tony blinked.

"We were in car crashes before, Gibbs."

"On the job. You and Ziva. You and McGee. You. But this was…"

Gibbs took a deep breath.

"It was MY truck. MY family. MY... It reminded me of…"

Tony sucked in a deep breath, and almost didn't dare move. Almost. He automatically wrapped his arms around Gibbs, trying to make it comforting more than anything else, and whispered.

"I would never leave you, Boss. Not without your permission. Never."

And when Gibbs only held him tighter, Tony let out a soft plea.

"Don't ever give me permission to leave you, Boss… Jethro."

Gibbs pulled back just a fraction so he could look into Tony's eyes.

"Never, Tony. Never."

Tony smirked that Tony smile, and looked up into the fierce blue stare of his boss.

"Promise me, Jethro? Never?"

"Never."

And Tony wanted to ask for a kiss, but before he got the chance, Gibbs was right there, taking his lips and tongue and mouth in a show of passion and possessiveness. Tony couldn't help but smile into the kiss after his initial daze had faded a little, and stared up at Gibbs. The glare he saw in those icy blues was warm and gentle, and it melted his heart even further. And then Gibbs' growl almost made him whimper.

"Mine, my beautiful boy. Mine forever."

Tony's smile couldn't have been more radiant.

"Yours. Always yours, Jethro."


End file.
